


So where do we start?

by DapperSheep



Series: Mr. Heartache [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Light Angst, Where everyone has an odd companion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 03:04:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13285623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperSheep/pseuds/DapperSheep
Summary: What do I know about you? Not a lot. In fact, I may never know everything about you.You may never understand what it means to have a life fated to be a cage in itself. And I am happy that you never will. But what I can say with clear certainty, is that you are the reason that my life has any meaning at all.You are the reason I try.





	So where do we start?

**Author's Note:**

> Where Yuuri has a lot of pre-performance anxieties but he's working through it. And the katsudon finds that a lot of people care.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

 

‘Hotsprings On Ice: A Fight Between Two Yuri’s’

‘Yuuri Katsuki Returning to the Ice After Sochi Failure’

‘Yuuri Katsuki’s Heartache Possibly Signing On As Coach?’

‘Yuuri Katsuki and his Heartache: Forbidden Romance in the Making?’

 

Yuuri tried his very best to ignore the headlines Minako casually read out from her phone. Occasionally, she would snort at a few she found amusing. He really didn’t want to comment on any of them, though he was honestly flustered and his cheeks were red from hearing the more scandalous titles.

Thank Shachihoko they were the only ones in the dining area of the family hotsprings today.

It felt too much of an effort to argue over these things when there was little else he could do about it being posted online. Right now, all he wanted was time to settle down from the event that happened less than twenty four hours ago.

He minutely shuddered at the thought of Phichit spamming all his social media accounts since he hadn’t spoken to his friend in a long while. In fact, they haven’t been in touch at all since Plisetsky’s sudden arrival.

Speaking of the blonde man, the Russian was dozing in front of him with his forehead pressed against the table.

He needed the rest. His long flight back to Russia was in the evening and the cat-obsessed skater had decided on a few hours of skating in the wee hours of the morning before leaving Japan entirely.

Something resembling a friendship had blossomed between them over the days leading up to the infamous Hotsprings on Ice. Yuri still badmouthed him a lot, and Viktor as well, but Yuuri was perceptive enough to notice the significant lack of heat in his tone.

Moreso, after their competition ended in a draw. That outcome had surprised more than just the two of them, but there it was.

“You’ve impressed him.” Otabek had told him then. To earn any sliver of respect from the World Champion at all was bizarre but, it felt nice.

Yuri was different from the skater he had encountered in the stalls after his free program in Sochi. Different at least, from the guy whose nasty glare saw through him and unmercifully told him to retire if he no longer had the passion for the sport.

Thinking back, Yuri had been an outright jerk in that moment. However, Yuuri didn’t hold it against him. Not wholly. The World Champion had turned out to be a better guy than that encounter portrayed him to be. He admitted to himself he would miss the Russian when he inevitably returns home, but assured himself that they would meet again in the Grand Prix. And even after, if Yuri wished to.

Beside the slumbering Yuri was an idyllic Otabek, amusing himself with rubbing Beka the cat. With complications about pet adoption and migrating said pets to a different country, the adopted feline would be staying in Yuuri’s family home until Yuri could figure out how to ship him back to Russia. His family hadn’t mind the furry guest, and Beka the cat didn’t even look remotely concerned.

His eyes then shifted to the silvery-haired man beside him, eagerly consuming the rest of the homemade katsudon.

“Hiroko-san! Delicious katsudon as ever!” Viktor crowed happily. “I can never get enough of your cooking.”

“Oh stop it, Viktor.” Yuuri’s mother smiled fondly at him. “You don’t have to flatter me so much.”

“But it’s true. And I can never stop complimenting how much of a wonderful cook you are.”

To think, this was the same person who had managed to mostly pull him out of his slump. Yes, he was doing what all Heartaches did. But in a way, this was beyond what he expected any Heartache to do.

And Viktor had opened a whole new perspective for the Russian World Champion, even if it had been through questionable deviousness. Yuuri wouldn’t -could never- tell anyone the moment he’d caught the Russian staring thoughtfully at the white costume in his hands, the costume Viktor had lovingly commissioned for Agape.

He himself couldn’t understand the rush of emotions he’d felt after his own performance of Eros. What he did know, was that it felt heady and addicting, but also freeing and cathartic after spending so long wallowing in his sadness.

Whether any of this was intentional or not, Viktor never spoke of it. Nothing was ever simple or straightforward with Viktor, if the Hotsprings on Ice was any testament to that fact.

_What’s your benefit in all this?_ The questioned lingered in his thoughts, but never gave a voice to.

“Viktor, stop flustering my mom.” Yuuri deadpanned. Viktor pouted and did his best imitation of a hurt puppy. Yuuri had built up enough resistance to it that all he did was stare back. Somewhere in the background, he could hear his mother chuckling.

The Heartache eventually lost the impromptu staring contest, shoulders slump in defeat. But even then, he looked happy. Eyes narrowed in amusement, he beamed at Yuuri with his silly heart-shaped smile plastered to his face. The Japanese skater returned it with a small fond smile of his own.

_And what happens now?_ A tiny voice in his head asked. Yuuri adjusted his glasses, turning the question over and over in his head.

‘I guess we’ll see.’ He answered and lifted his teacup to his lips, feeling no small amount of anticipation and nervousness for the following days.

 

 

“So Yuuri, what are we going to do about your coaching problem?” Minako asked one morning. The question made Yuuri pause, but he couldn’t give his ballet instructor a clear answer.

Despite the hopeful return to the ice, there was still this problem to deal with.

Of course, as much as the headlines loved to exaggerate, Viktor never said aloud that he was going to coach Yuuri, only that he would be supervising Yuuri’s choreography and adherence to the theme of his programs. Aside from his obligations as a Heartache that is.

There were real legal and social concerns of course. While it seemed ridiculous, they all made sense given the nature of these beings. But he found it unfair to the Heartaches who were, in all sense of the word, ‘human’ in everything but identity.

‘Why is it so _human?_ ’

The bespectacled young man moved away from those thoughts. It wasn’t time to mull over that. Viktor never showed any reaction to those words when he could clearly hear them, and so Yuuri would do Viktor the same favor and ignore it.

That still left Yuuri without a coach, and no matter how fervently he wished to return to the ice and compete, a coach was still needed. He could possibly ask for Celestino to take him back, but the man was so far away and busy with Phichit’s training. The paperwork wouldn’t make it in time for the local Qualifiers. And it simply wouldn’t make any sense to have a coach who was wholly absent from his side.

Yuuri couldn’t even switch countries to represent. That would ruin his chances of ever competing for the Worlds in the next year or so. He could wait, but he wasn’t that patient.

And it simply couldn’t be anyone. Minako and Viktor had been firm about that. They could hire any independent coach, but it wouldn’t mean anything if their personalities didn’t meld well. There was a reason, after all, why Yuuri had chosen Celestino and vice versa.

Bottomline was they needed a miracle. _He_ needed a miracle.

And that miracle somehow came in the form of his old friend, approaching him on skates in the middle of his discussion with Viktor about his free skate jumps.

“I’ll be your coach.”

Viktor looked mildly surprised, then pensive before settling to look between the two childhood friends with a silently curious look. Yuuri himself was simply looking at Takeshi, speechless and maybe a tad confused.

The confusion must have been evident, because the stockier man’s lips downturned into a small frown. “Did you really forget, Yuuri?” Takeshi looked maybe just a little bit insulted. The expression fell a moment later and he grinned amicably. “Nah, don’t think too much on that. I may have retired from ice-skating, but I don’t _just_ run the Ice Castle, you know.”

He barely recalled it, but he remembered snippets of texts between him and Yuuko over the years. Takeshi had been a coach for a while for novices, back when the Ice Castle had seen a lot of patrons and Hasetsu had a multitude of starry-eyed skaters.

Still…

“But… _why_?” Yuuri was at a loss for words, the last word almost catching in his throat.

Takeshi’s gaze was steady. “Why not?” He threw back the question. The bespectacled man didn’t have anything to reply to that.

The older man huffed out a breath. “Look, Yuuri. I can’t just sit by and watch you lose your chance to get back out there.” Takeshi explained, “Yuuko’s never going to forgive me. Heck, I’m not going to forgive myself for not helping you. So hey, why not? It’s not like we’re losing anything by being coach and student, right?”

Yuuri bit his lip and didn’t meet his friend’s gaze. He had a point. There was so much sense in this opportunity that he’d be stupid to not take it.

But to him, it somehow didn’t feel _right_.

“I’m just not sure… I mean, I don’t have any proper sponsors yet and-” He squeaked as firm hands land on his shoulders, cutting off his would-been ramble. He was just a little bit surprised to find that it was both Viktor and Takeshi, with one hand on each of his shoulders and sharing twin looks of exasperation, moreso on Takeshi.

“You know what, leave that kind of talk until _after_ you’ve secured a slot for the international cups.” Takeshi groaned. “Do you seriously want to compete again or not?”

“I… I do.”

“Then stop being cruel to yourself and just let us help you, alright?”

The words felt like a slap of reality. Sharp and stinging, but needed to see the road ahead of him with more clarity.

What did he ever do to deserve these people?

“Takeshi, I hope you know what you’re doing. Have you ever coached for a competition that isn’t for kids?”

“Watch it, smartass. Yuuko may love you like a little brother, but that’s not going to stop me from giving you helluva time getting back into shape.”

“I knew it. You just want to order me around.” There was an upward tilt of Takeshi’s lips as he playfully shoved Yuuri then proceeded to arm lock him. Yuuri barked out a laugh.

He was going to the Japan Qualifiers, win it, then make his way up to the Grand Prix.

“So, when are we starting?”

All was as well as it could be.

 

 

During the opening event of the China Cup, Viktor hadn’t been there. Hadn’t hidden around the hotel room nor the venue to make Yuuri think he was merely being the playful man he sometimes was.

He was well and truly _not here._

In the back of his mind, there was a voice that told him he had gotten too attached to his Heartache. Had forgotten the fact that they had certain conditions to be able to _stay_. And most of the time, no one knew what made them manifest in the first place.

Viktor had been the reason he pulled all the focus he had into making his performance of Eros better this time around. Still, somewhere in the back of his head, he also blamed his Heartache for disappearing on him.

And that cold resentment mixed with unadulterated fear right when he realized that he was _in the lead_ , and he had no idea how to defend his place. He hadn’t even perfected his jump list for the free skate program.

He couldn’t remember how he managed to get through the post-competition interviews without slipping up or breaking down. Takeshi, probably? Yuuri couldn’t quite recall.

Wasn’t this supposed to not happen? Was it because Viktor stayed on initially because of his grief over Vicchan? Is it because he finally moved on, now that he was focused on winning the Grand Prix? Could he even do this without Viktor around?

There were so many thoughts flying through his head that night that he was barely able to get enough sleep, or say anything substantial for the interviews the next day that Takeshi had to excuse him from the overbearing flashing lights and insistent voices.

“Yuuri, you look like my kids just posted a naked picture of you online.” Went Takeshi’s idea of cheering him up, once they were safely ensconced at the rink side for the competitors and their coaches. Well, he wasn’t wrong per se. The bespectacled man gave him a weak smile and a thumbs-up, hoping that was enough for his friend.

He was sure Phichit was eyeing him worriedly, but was unable to go over to him with the Thai needing to be focused and ready for his turn.

The announcer’s voice rang out all over the stadium. The lights dimmed as the first skater slid out onto the ice and the music started shortly after.

The more he watched the others skate out on the ice, the more a heavy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach.

He needed to go somewhere. Anywhere that didn’t have this pressing atmosphere of too many people and too much noise. Yuuri quickly excused himself from Takeshi, not waiting to see if his friend had heard, and walked briskly away from the waiting area. He allowed his body to take him as far away from the -people, noise, _pressure_ \- as it could before it could all overwhelm him.

He finally stopped walking when he could only hear the muffled beats of the music, surrounded by cars and the heavy warm air of a parking lot. The latter, it seemed, didn’t help his case one bit and he belatedly realized that even being as far away as possible from the rink won’t stop the emotions from catching up to him like that day in Sochi.

But this time, it wasn’t about Vicchan.

Yuuri feared he was repeating a vicious cycle.

A hand suddenly pressed gently against his nape, another he could vaguely feel holding him by the shoulder and turning him around to press close to a warm body.

Fear froze him. But the familiar wispy silver hair in his peripheral and the dark grey material of the suit made his heart clenched in his throat and he refused to whimper out the name, for fear that it was merely a concerned stranger.

_But why would someone follow me all the way here-_

“I’m here.”

The familiar voice murmured just loud enough over the rapid thumping of his heart, close enough that he felt warm breath against the shell of his ear. Yuuri felt like crying and suffocating all at the same time. It was getting harder to think, but the hand on his back kept him grounded with soothing rubs.

“Yuuri, I’m here. I’m here. Just breathe.” The words flowed like a mantra. It calmed him and allowed him to focus on getting his breath back to clear the fog that was creeping into his brain.

Neither spoke for a time. Above them the muffled cheers of the audience signaled the end of a performance.

“Why are you doing this, Viktor?” He asked as he slowly backed away from Viktor’s embrace.

There was a moment of heavy silence where Yuuri was uncertain if Viktor had disappeared again. The hand grasping his was the only indication that he was still here, solid and warm.

“Do you really need to ask?” Viktor asked softly. “Yuuri, you love skating. And I’m helping you get as far as you can.”

Yuuri pursed his lips, clenched his free hand and looked away.

“I’m pathetic.” The words slipped from him without preamble. Tears dripped from his eyes and he furiously wiped them away. _What if this is as far as I can go?_

“No, you aren’t.” Viktor was quick to argue, quick to move his hands to cup Yuuri’s cheeks and tilt his head up so he could meet eyes with the other.

“I almost broke down just now.” Yuuri continued, fighting to keep his tone steady.

Viktor blinked slowly, a tiny crease forming in between his brows. He let his hands fall back to his sides. “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid, or fearful of failure.”

“But that failure would reflect on you! On Takeshi.” Yuuri cried out, gesturing with an arm. It was fucking unfair how calm Viktor was taking the situation in stride. “That’s what I’m afraid of! You’re already… You know what being a Heartache is like. This is Takeshi’s first time as my coach and I don’t want to disappoint him. I don’t have the confidence to even think I stand a chance at winning.”

“And yet you made it this far.”

“People usually call that luck. Maybe _extremely_ dumb luck.” Yuuri gritted out dryly. Viktor sighed, running a hand through his short hair.

“Yuuri. You don’t believe that for one second. And you know that neither I nor Takeshi-san believe it either.” The Heartache pointed out with a frown. “You worked hard to lose weight, rehearse the choreography and make the jumps. And all the tiny sacrifices that’s too plentiful to mention. It isn’t about luck.”

In spite of all that was said and his fears whispering words that Viktor _doesn’t understand him_ , he knows Viktor was well experienced in his weaknesses and wasn’t simply trying to comfort him out of an automatic response.

The Heartache shifted his feet, and Yuuri heard him add, “I’ve always had faith in you, ever since I first saw you on the ice. Nothing’s going to change that.” It almost sounded like a confession.

“And if I don’t win? If I flunked it after all the effort?”

“Will you give up if that happens?” Viktor asked him tonelessly. The same question that Viktor always threw back at him for years. To another it may have sounded accusatory, but Viktor left it open, allowed Yuuri to think on the question without adding to it.

In the end though, Yuuri already knew his answer. Wiping furiously at his eyes again, he said, “Then please… hold onto that faith a little longer, Viktor.”

The Heartache seemed taken aback but didn’t answer, but he offered his hand and Yuuri took it gratefully. He allowed himself to be pulled in front of the taller man as they made their way back to the rink, a solid warm hand always pressed against the small of his back as a reminder that Viktor was there even when he couldn’t see him.

 

They’d arrive just as applause burst for the end of a performance. Takeshi spotted them first. The look on his face as he briskly approached them spoke of mildly veiled panic and relief at where Yuuri had ran off to, but upon seeing Viktor, relief took over fully.

Takeshi said nothing about Viktor’s sudden reappearance, nor about the dried tear tracks on Yuuri’s face. He wordlessly handed Yuuri a tissue to hastily clean himself up and began to prep himself when the announcer called his name.

He took a moment to collect himself, and began to walk to the rinkside.

“Get out there and nail it, Yuuri!” Phichit cheered as they passed one another. Yuuri offered the Thai a smile and a thumbs-up.

He allowed his mind to push out all his doubts- no. He would acknowledge his doubts, acknowledge that maybe he wasn’t going to win this. Maybe this was as far as his skills would take him, but he wouldn’t half-ass his efforts even if that were the case.

People believed in him when he couldn’t do it for himself. Yes, he was afraid that the burden of succeeding –of repaying their faith- was very intimidating to bear. And he had wanted to run away. He still does, in fact.

But that was a failure he had the choice of avoiding.

From out on the ice, he turned to the side to see Takeshi and Viktor staring at him. The two noticed his glance, but only Takeshi gave him a smile. It didn’t mean however, that Viktor wasn’t encouraging him. Yuuri felt heartened by the thought.

Maybe all it took was at least one person to believe that he could actually win this.

Yuuri breathed just as the silence before the music began. In this moment, he felt more relaxed than he had ever been.

 

 

He did it.

 

 

As he approached the gate to the kiss and cry, he found Viktor waiting for him at the very edge. Exhausted, but still running on the tail end of the rush of a near flawless program, he didn’t think twice about barreling headlong into the open arms of his Heartache who took a couple of steps back from catching him.

“Did you see it, Viktor? I did… I did great, didn’t I?” Yuuri let the questions spill out in a flurry rush, half-muffled against the material of Viktor’s coat.

His Heartache leaned in, and Yuuri felt warm lips pressed against his sweaty forehead in that comfortingly familiar way. Everything just seemed to stop, or sounded very far away. It didn’t matter that the cameras were probably focused on them, or that the noise from the stands sounded all the more excited for some reason.

When Viktor took a step back and smiled, the proud gleam Yuuri saw in his eyes spoke volumes of all that was needed to be said.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again. It's been a long while since my last fic and apologies but I've been busy. I may not return to a regular posting schedule, but I will still be posting every now and then. The YoI-Heartache series though, is set to be completed within the year.
> 
> For those who are reading this now, this is an alternate universe (as mentioned in the tags) that deals with a couple of what-ifs and some character and relationship studies. This, on top of this being writing practice so the tone can and will vary from each other. Established canon relationships won't necessarily be the same here.
> 
> At the end of it all, thank you very much for reading! Kudos or comments are very much appreciated.


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